Rosie

My eyes fluttered open and I blinked with a painful moan escaping my mouth. Everything hurt, I could feel my eyes swollen and my throat raw from crying. My stiff muscles ached from falling asleep curled up on the floor against the door.

The reflection of morning light was coming through the window too bright and harsh and I blinked trying to remember why I was on the floor before it all came rushing back like my favourite song and the pain hit me fresh as if it had just happened.

Jude left, he left me, he ran out like he was disgusted... his bike....

I pushed myself up immediately and my muscles protested from the jolt as I bit my lower lip to stop the groan that wanted to escape, while my head pounded. I yanked the door open to check if his bike was still outside or if he had come to pick it up.

As the door swung open, I froze completely because Jude was right there, curled up on my doorstep and my brain couldn’t process what I was seeing. What was he doing here?

“Jude?” My voice came out small, confused, and shocked. I thought...

Jude lifted his head and looked up at me and he looked terrible, exhausted, and wrecked with dark circles under his eyes he had watched all night. His clothes were rumpled all edges and I gulped.

We just stared at each other for a long moment and I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if I should be angry or relieved or hurt or all of it because my blood was roaring in my bloodstream.

“What are you doing out here?” I managed and my voice was shaking. “How long have you been—”

“All night,” he said quietly and his voice was rough and tired. “I couldn’t leave.”

I didn’t understand, he did leave, he ran out and left me alone and confused and now he was saying he couldn’t leave? But he was here, he was right here on my doorstep and he’d been here all night apparently and I didn’t know what that meant.

I glanced at his body to the flakes of snow falling and him, “Come inside,” I muttered because I couldn’t think of what else to say and he was still outside in the cold and despite everything, I couldn’t just leave him there.

He stood up slowly with his body and followed me inside. I closed the door behind us and we just stood there in my small living room not looking at each other and the silence was so heavy I could barely breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Rosie, I’m so sorry.”

I felt tears starting again even though I thought I’d cried everything out already. “Why did you leave?” I asked and I hated how small my voice sounded. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said immediately and he stepped closer, his hands reaching for me then dropping as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch me. “You didn’t do anything wrong, this isn’t about you.”

“Then what is it about?” I asked and the tears were falling now. “I thought we were in this together and we were both liking it but...”

He looked away but I could see his jaw clench and his hands curl into fists at his sides. “I know,” he said quietly. ” And I owe you an explanation for my abrupt leave but.”

“Then explain,” I said desperately. I wanted to know what had happened, what triggered him to leave? “Was it my fault?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.

“Jesus, no sweetheart.” he injected, “I’m the problem. It’s me but I can’t,” he said, looking at me with so much pain in his eyes that it made my chest ache.

“can’t what?”

“not tell you. Not yet, I can’t tell you yet.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” I asked in confusion. “Jude, what’s going on?”

“Something happened last night,” he said and he was struggling with the words. “Something I don’t know how to explain right now and I know that’s not fair to you but I need you to trust me.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered because I didn’t, nothing made sense.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you,” he said and he stepped closer and his hands came up to cup my face gently. “Please believe me, Rosie, I want you so much it scares me. That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” I asked in a broken voice.

“Because something happened that I wasn’t ready for and I panicked and I ran and I’m so sorry,” he said and his thumbs wiped at my tears. “But it’s not about you, it’s about me and things I’m dealing with that I can’t explain yet.”

I stared up at him trying to understand what he was saying but licked my lower lip. “When?” I asked. “When can you tell me?”

“Soon,” he promised. “I will tell you everything, I promise, but I need you to wait just a little longer. Can you do that? Can you wait for me?”

I should have said no, should have demanded answers right now, should have protected myself from more hurt. But looking at him standing there looking so tired and guilty and desperate, I couldn’t do it.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll wait.”

“You will?” he asked like he couldn’t believe it.

“But you have to promise me you’ll tell me,” I said. “Promise me this isn’t you finding a way to let me down easy or—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly. “No, Rosie, that’s not what this is. I promise I will tell you everything and I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you.”

The tears were falling harder now and I nodded because I wanted to believe him, needed to believe him.

He pulled me into his arms and I buried my face in his chest and started crying again, all the fear and hurt and confusion from last night pouring out while he held me tight and whispered apologies into my hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kept saying and his arms were wrapped around me so tight like he was afraid I’d disappear. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

We stood there like that for a long time, just holding each other while I cried and he whispered reassurances and apologies, and eventually the tears slowed and I was just breathing him in, his scent that had been on the scarf he gave me, that scent that made me feel safe.

He pulled back just enough to look at me and used his thumbs to wipe the remaining tears from my face. “Come here,” he said softly and led me to the couch.

We sat down and immediately he pulled me into his side and I curled into him, tucking myself against his chest while his arms came around me. He was so warm, always so warm, and I pressed closer to that warmth while his hand rubbed up and down my back soothingly.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For waiting, for trusting me, sweetheart.”

“Just don’t make me regret it,” I whispered back.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I swear I won’t.”

And wrapped up in his arms with his warmth surrounding me and his heartbeat under my ear, I let myself believe him.l